O Kali, my Mother full of Bliss! Enchantress of the almighty Shiva!
In Thy delirious joy Thou dancest, clapping Thy hands together!
Thou art the Mover of all that move, and we are but Thy helpless toys.
...Ramakrishna Paramhans
Kali came to me, not in a dream but as a physical manifestation called forth from the deep pits of my psyche. Our first encounter was a mere few weeks ago. I had been spending time with a client who had specifically asked for my help. "Because I know you can take care of yourself," he had said. He was a dark soul, burdened by the political correctness of nice-ities and the mundane. He sought to illuminate dark shadows and light's natural counterbalance in every situation he entered into. I knew enough to tread gently, but I tread nonetheless. For I have no fear, especially when I am crystal clear within my own intention.
He and I came together, one last time, to paint our faces and explore, in movement, the characters and creatures that emerged from our sub-conscious. I chose a black base paint simply because he had chosen white and I had recently read an article in CNN about "black face." "What would life be like if I wandered through these city streets and navigated around its circuitous routes with a dark countenance?" I wondered.
During this first encounter, I was so transfixed by my new appearance that I wanted nothing more but to stare at the vivid whiteness found in my eyes. I relished in gazing at my opened mouth and observing the stark contrast of my white teeth set against my pitch black face. I quickly became intoxicated by this new vision. I did not want to let it, let her, go. Nonetheless, I had to. With reluctance, I rubbed water and soap onto my face and I washed away the life blood and remnants of this other.
I was so inspired by this experience that I schemed to call it, to call her, forth once again. I planned a "Moving with the Mask" workshop in which others were invited to take part in this timeless human ritual of face painting. This past Tuesday, a group of twelve of us came together at the Performing Arts Workshop in Encinitas. The mood in our intimate studio was light and there was a giddiness in the air. We spent a brief time period applying brilliant colors in a myriad of ways to our own faces. What emerged were clowns, dual super heroes, and butterflies. Afterward, we were led through gentle warm-up exercises and then we were instructed to turn towards a mirror, as well as the mirror images of one another, and explore. We were encouraged to discover not just the movement but the sound and vocabulary of this totem self.
As the evening progressed, and our workshop segued into our weekly barefoot boogie, non-face painted individuals wandered in. Together, we shared the same play ground. As I spun, twirled, and glided around, again with a black face and a light design of white paint layered on top, I expelled breathy growls, I bared my teeth, I rolled my eyes, and I stuck out my tongue. As my initial intention had been to "explore my darkness in the dance."
Soon, a friend wandered in, danced with me, and exclaimed, "Kali!" "Kali Ma!" and I was re-born in that moment. At the time, I knew very little of Kali, aside from the fact that she was an ancient Hindu goddess, celebrated as all-powerful and revered for her destructive bent. Yet, her name stuck with me. Who was this symbolic archetype that I was channeling? And, what lessons could I apply from her teachings to my everyday life? I took my hair our of a tight grip of constraint and unleashed my dancing prowess for the remainder of the evening. The following day, I arose early to research.
Kali came to me, not in a dream but as a physical manifestation called forth from the deep pits of my psyche. Our first encounter was a mere few weeks ago. I had been spending time with a client who had specifically asked for my help. "Because I know you can take care of yourself," he had said. He was a dark soul, burdened by the political correctness of nice-ities and the mundane. He sought to illuminate dark shadows and light's natural counterbalance in every situation he entered into. I knew enough to tread gently, but I tread nonetheless. For I have no fear, especially when I am crystal clear within my own intention.
He and I came together, one last time, to paint our faces and explore, in movement, the characters and creatures that emerged from our sub-conscious. I chose a black base paint simply because he had chosen white and I had recently read an article in CNN about "black face." "What would life be like if I wandered through these city streets and navigated around its circuitous routes with a dark countenance?" I wondered.
During this first encounter, I was so transfixed by my new appearance that I wanted nothing more but to stare at the vivid whiteness found in my eyes. I relished in gazing at my opened mouth and observing the stark contrast of my white teeth set against my pitch black face. I quickly became intoxicated by this new vision. I did not want to let it, let her, go. Nonetheless, I had to. With reluctance, I rubbed water and soap onto my face and I washed away the life blood and remnants of this other.
I was so inspired by this experience that I schemed to call it, to call her, forth once again. I planned a "Moving with the Mask" workshop in which others were invited to take part in this timeless human ritual of face painting. This past Tuesday, a group of twelve of us came together at the Performing Arts Workshop in Encinitas. The mood in our intimate studio was light and there was a giddiness in the air. We spent a brief time period applying brilliant colors in a myriad of ways to our own faces. What emerged were clowns, dual super heroes, and butterflies. Afterward, we were led through gentle warm-up exercises and then we were instructed to turn towards a mirror, as well as the mirror images of one another, and explore. We were encouraged to discover not just the movement but the sound and vocabulary of this totem self.
As the evening progressed, and our workshop segued into our weekly barefoot boogie, non-face painted individuals wandered in. Together, we shared the same play ground. As I spun, twirled, and glided around, again with a black face and a light design of white paint layered on top, I expelled breathy growls, I bared my teeth, I rolled my eyes, and I stuck out my tongue. As my initial intention had been to "explore my darkness in the dance."
Soon, a friend wandered in, danced with me, and exclaimed, "Kali!" "Kali Ma!" and I was re-born in that moment. At the time, I knew very little of Kali, aside from the fact that she was an ancient Hindu goddess, celebrated as all-powerful and revered for her destructive bent. Yet, her name stuck with me. Who was this symbolic archetype that I was channeling? And, what lessons could I apply from her teachings to my everyday life? I took my hair our of a tight grip of constraint and unleashed my dancing prowess for the remainder of the evening. The following day, I arose early to research.
"Kali is a particularly appropriate image for conveying the idea of the world as the play of the gods. The spontaneous, effortless, dizzying creativity of the divine reflex is conveyed in her wild appearance. Insofar as Kali is identified with the phenomenal world, she presents a picture of that world that underlies its ephemeral and unpredictable nature. In her mad dancing, disheveled hair, and eerie howl there is made present the hint of a world reeling, careening out of control. The world is created and destroyed in Kali's wild dancing, and the truth of redemption lies in man's awareness that he is invited to take part in that dance, to yield to the frenzied beat of the Mother's dance of life and death."
"Symbolically, Kali characterizes destruction or letting go of the past to make room for a more purposeful present and future. She stands for the concept of Mother Nature as not only a potent, destructive force but also a force that cleanses away the old to allow room for new, fertile ground."
"Kali is considered to be the most fully realized of all the Dark Goddesses, but even though Kali was originally worshipped as a warrior goddess, and her followers gave her offerings of blood and flesh, her followers still found her greatest strength to be that of a protector.
Kali is not always thought of as a Dark Goddess; rather, she is also referred to as a great and loving primordial Mother Goddess in the Hindu tantric tradition. In this aspect, as Mother Goddess, she is referred to as Kali Ma, meaning Kali Mother, and millions of Hindus revere her as such.
Kali is also associated with intense sexuality. Myths tell of the Yoni (vagina) of Kali (when she existed as Sati - wife of Lord Shiva) falling down to the Earth on the sacred hill near Gauhati in Assam (India), the same place where the Temple of Kamakhya is now located. The temple's outer walls are highly decorated with carvings showing Kali as a Triple Goddess: squatting, and exposing her Yoni (vagina); as a mother suckling Her child; and as a warrior woman drawing back Her bow. While these carvings show Kali as a sexual being, they also show her as a protective and motherly woman, full of compassion."
Discovering all of this has refanned a flame for this season. For years now, I have harbored distaste for this commercialized American masquerade known as "Halloween." The cheap plastic costumes manufactured abroad, the refined sugar products, the consumption and waste - all of it leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does little to inspire or encourage me to initiate my own ritual. Fortunately, Kali has now changed this. In honor of All Hollow's Eve and Dia de Los Muertos, San Diego's DanceJam is celebrating with a Costume Ball, Ocotober 30th, from 8pm - midnight, at Eveoke Dance Studio on Unviersity Avenue and 28th Street in North Park. Kali will be there - won't you?
Discovering all of this has refanned a flame for this season. For years now, I have harbored distaste for this commercialized American masquerade known as "Halloween." The cheap plastic costumes manufactured abroad, the refined sugar products, the consumption and waste - all of it leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does little to inspire or encourage me to initiate my own ritual. Fortunately, Kali has now changed this. In honor of All Hollow's Eve and Dia de Los Muertos, San Diego's DanceJam is celebrating with a Costume Ball, Ocotober 30th, from 8pm - midnight, at Eveoke Dance Studio on Unviersity Avenue and 28th Street in North Park. Kali will be there - won't you?
